


recipe labs

by spaceboy_niko



Category: Sorted (Website) RPF
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blood Drinking, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Dress Up, M/M, Multi, Period Sex, Phone Sex, Sort Of, Trans Male Character, Vampires, Voyeurism, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-03-17
Packaged: 2019-10-19 12:07:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17601083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy_niko/pseuds/spaceboy_niko
Summary: a series of sorted shorts that i don't want to put separately for some reasontagging as i go, archive warnings might change but are unlikely to





	1. a young free-range chicken and a mysterious domineering cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry hates the dress Mike gets him into, but things could be worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by the 50 shades of chicken video. i feel so called out, but now i feel like it's ok to write shit like ben tying up james bc that video exists, so take it as you will

"You're not serious, Mike."

"Come on, Baz, for a laugh?" Mike asks, holding up the dress.

Barry has to physically compose himself, the dress upsets him that much.

"Mike, you seriously think I'd wear that?"

Mike starts to look annoyed, and Barry has to clarify.

"I mean, look at it! First of all, it's cheap as fuck. How much did you pay for this? Too much. Too bloody much, no matter what you say. It's like...it's like the same stuff a tent's made out of! And this lace," Barry grabs the bodice and examines it. "Badly done, pretty much just plastic, I think it's just hot-glued on. What the hell made you buy this?"

"I–"

"At least try and get something good quality! You could've asked me!"

Mike stares.

_Oh, shit._

"You're– this is a thing for you, then, isn't it?"

Barry considers trying to make some excuse, but eventually just decides _fuck it._ "Yeah, a bit."

Mike's dumbfounded look changes to a grin. "Even if you hate it, Barry, will you wear it? For the video?" The dress is almost forgotten between them as Mike sidles in closer. "For me?"

 

* * *

 

Despite everything he hates about the dress, it's a fun length, swishing around just above his thigh-highs. The book is uncomfortable for everyone, as expected, and he's never been more happy to finish filming than when Mike declares it a very muffled wrap.

It's almost half an hour later, though, that Jamie raises an eyebrow.

"You're still in that dress, Barry, did you like it that much?"

"It's kind of itchy, to be honest."  _Lie._ "I'm just a lazy bastard, that's all."  _Not a lie, but good enough for now._

"Go change, you idiot," Jamie says affectionately, rubbing a hand in Barry's hair.

"Nah." Barry spins around in his chair to follow him, sliding down in his seat and spreading his legs a little wider.

 

* * *

 

He blames it on the gloves. They're making his hands all slippery.

He drops his phone right in front of James, and leans down to pick it up. He doesn't remember what colour underwear he wore today, but he's now certain if he asked James, James would be able to tell him.

His fork clatters to the ground under his desk as he's eating with Photoshop open, and he doesn't want to say he makes a show of it, but he definitely puts an effort into crawling under to get it.

Ben unwittingly helps in his mission, asking Barry to check the oven while he makes a phone call.

He's shutting the oven door and about to straighten up when a firm hand grabs a hold of his arse and  _squeezes_ , thumb pressing right against his hole, and Barry tries not to collapse into the oven.

James helps him up and yanks him by his choker into the bathroom, locking the door behind them and pressing him against the sink before attacking his mouth with such ferocity that it catches him off-guard, but he's more than happy to open his mouth and let James take over.

"Tarty bitch," James says into his mouth. "Parading yourself around like that all day in that trashy dress."

"I'm the cheapest of the cheap," Barry replies. "Mates' rates, you get in free."

"Let me fuck you then, if you're going to be like that. Lose the boxers."

_Boom town._

Barry strips off his underwear, but keeps the fishnets on, and turns around, spreading his legs and leaning his elbows on the countertop beside the sink – James hardly needs to flip up his skirt. The sound of foil ripping behind him makes him smirk.

"You been taking tips from Ben? Always being prepared and all that?"

James slides two icy lubed-up fingers into him, and Barry yelps.

It's a slap-dash job of prepping – they both know that, but Barry relishes the fact that it's going to burn after James scissors his fingers one last time and pulls them out.

"You clean?" James asks.

Barry nods, and James digs his fingers into Barry's hips and slides his cock in, and it doesn't take him long to figure out a rhythm.

Barry is bent nearly in half over the countertop, face so close to the mirror that he fogs it up with every breath forced out of him. The grip on his hips is tight, and as James fucks into him his hips slam into the edge of the bench, and it's definitely going to leave bruises, but it's proper filthy like he wanted and like James knew he wanted.

"Fucking slag, look at you, can't even make it through the day without needing to be fucked in the office bathroom. If you need a cock in you that bad, maybe we should demote you, employ you just to sit under our desks in your slutty lingerie and suck us off, hmm?" James' voice is low and dirty in his ear, like he's trying to keep it secret, but Barry knows he knows that everyone saw them go into the bathroom together, so he moans out a "yes, God, James, harder!"

Barry practically feels James throw caution to the wind, and the bathroom echoes with the slap of skin on skin and their heavy breathing, with the occasional curse from James and moaning gasp from Barry.

James' grip tightens on his hips, and he pants out a "Fuck, Barry, close," before coming, spilling hot and wet into Barry. It's not unpleasant – guys don't normally come in Barry – but James pulls out too soon for his liking, and he can  _feel_ James' come leak out of him, running down his thighs and dripping onto the floor with a sound that makes him realise how sleazy this is.

James cleans himself up, and Barry waits patiently for him to wipe down his thighs, but instead James cracks open the bathroom door, pokes his head out and calls, "Sloppy seconds, anyone?"

Barry groans as he hears the door creak open wider, and drops his head down to his forearms.


	2. hello hello give me a blow(job)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike is shockingly bad at oral. James lends a helping hand. Barry's just along for the ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> current trends in the sorted discord sin bin: trans barry being eaten out by literally everyone. it's my lifeblood. i can die happy now. defs wanna explore trans barry and nb mike more.
> 
> title's from that one old tomska & jack howard sketch (coming out) bc i hate myself

For someone with a vagina, Mike is fucking appalling at eating Barry out.

Like, Barry knows what feels good, and he tries his best to copy whatever magic Jamie works on his clit when he’s giving Mike head, but when Mike’s between his legs, it’s like he forgets how a cunt works or something.

He’s not as bad as Ben, but they give Ben the excuse of lack of experience, whereas Mike – Mike has no excuse.

More often than not, Barry will grab a handful of Mike’s hair and yank him forward in frustration, grinding his hips against Mike’s mouth with hardly a care for what Mike’s actually doing, until he makes himself come.

Barry doesn’t realise how unsatisfied he looks after Mike goes down on him until James points it out.

“Does he, like, not listen to you when you tell him what feels good?”

Barry shrugs. “He’s enthusiastic? I think he gets overexcited about it and just forgets everything he knows about cunts.”

James exhales heavily.

 

* * *

 

They’re up in the loft again, where it feels like no one can see them, with Barry’s jeans on the floor and Mike under the desk with his face buried between his thighs. Barry is apparently helping Mike with some of the footage he shot, but they got distracted. Whatever.

Mike’s phone rings on the desk, and Barry hands it down to Mike without looking at the caller ID.

Mike rolls his eyes and pulls off Barry (thank _god_ ) and answers, but before he can say anything, James’ voice comes through, and Barry can just hear his tinny voice say, “He’s got a clit, Mike, just like you, so pay some bloody attention to it. Put me on speaker.”

Mike colours up at the realisation that James can  _see_ them, but they can't see him, and looks like he's about to protest when Barry clears his throat and raises an eyebrow accusingly. "Listen to him. He knows what he's doing, unlike some people."

"Thank you, Barry," James says primly, and Mike switches him to speakerphone mid-sentence.

Mike sets his phone down on the floor, and James’ voice is a bit louder now. “Don’t just wag your tongue around in his hole, that’s really fucking boring of you. Move your mouth up a bit, get on his clit.”

Mike tentatively drags a flat tongue over Barry’s clit, and Barry grips the arms of the chair tightly.

James laughs down the line. “See? Already better. Now get your hands involved, you’re too far into this to be scared of getting your hands dirty. Try a couple of fingers.”

Mike slides one finger in and crooks it, and James sighs annoyedly. “I said a couple, Mike. You know better than that. Two.”

Another finger slides into Barry, and Mike spreads them out inside him, and _this_ is more like it.

“Good,” he whispers at the same time James says the word warmly, and Barry makes a quiet noise as he remembers that James is behind this, sitting somewhere away from prying eyes and ears and orchestrating this whole situation.

“Try and find his G-spot. Wherever you are, probably up a bit, maybe a little deeper–”

Barry moans a lot louder than he thought he would and digs one of his heels into Mike’s back, trying to pull him in a bit closer.

“There we go,” James says as Mike moans at the sound and Barry shoves his knuckles into his mouth, biting down to try and shut himself up. “It’s good if you’re a bit noisy, too, he gets off on the vibrations.”

“Move your– move your tongue a bit more,” Barry adds. “Really good fingerfucking, but– _yeah_ , fuck, that,” he sighs as Mike almost kitten-licks around his clit, tongue brushing over just enough to make Barry squirm.

“You can get yourself off, too, Mike, you’ve got another hand. Do I need to tell you how to finger yourself?”

“No, James,” Mike says against Barry’s cunt, and Barry breathes out laboriously.

“Good. Don’t try and hold yourself back, though. It’ll make Barry feel like a human’s going down on him and not a robot.”

Barry leans his head back against the chair as Mike undoes his fly and gets a hand into his underwear, knowing that he’ll fuck himself on his fingers and use his thumb on his clit to get himself off best. It changes something in how Mike eats him out – the pace changes, and the movements of his tongue are interspersed with soft whines and moans that set Barry’s nerve endings abuzz.

“Suck on his clit a bit, Mike. He likes that. _Really_ likes it.”

“James, _no_ –” Barry starts, but Mike’s already taking his swollen clit into his mouth and running the tip of his tongue over it as he sucks, and Barry’s coming with a hastily-muffled shout, feeling Mike moan into him, drawing out both of their orgasms.

“How did I do?” Mike asks, face shiny with spit and Barry’s slick.

“Better than normal,” Barry says once he’s got his breath back. “Just...remember everything James said and you'll be fine.”

The phone is silent, and Mike flicks on the screen to see that James has hung up.

Barry pulls his pants back on, and Mike wipes his face and heads downstairs as Barry speeds through what he was actually meant to be doing.

He does hear Mike stop and James say, just loud enough for him to hear in the loft, “You’re learning. Next time, though, invite me. I can’t see you properly when you’re up there, how am I meant to know what else you’re fucking up?”

Barry slides his headphones back on, but he still hears Mike stamp back up into the loft.

“Oi, Baz?”

“Hmm?”

“Do James and Jamie actually give better head than me?”


	3. bloody hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> four words: trans barry vampire ben. i feel like i'm allowed to not want to summarise this chapter more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> arguably the worst thing i've ever written  
> we were talking abt vampires in the sorted discord and once i'd sobered up this was the first thought i had and i'm kind of mad abt that  
> warnings for blood obvs

“Barry, please, you’ve been smelling of blood for two whole days now. Do you know how  _ hard _ that is for me? It’s like...like constantly smelling bacon frying and not being able to eat it!”

Barry looks at Ben, a pained expression on his face. “Are you having a laugh? You’re seriously asking if you can feed off me during shark week?”

“God, is that what you call it now? I’m just saying, you’re not using that blood, it’s a waste! I could eat that!”

Barry makes a disgusted noise. “That’s taking the war against food waste a bit far, don’t you think, Ben?”

“Look, I won’t even bite you, how’s that?” Ben’s never bitten Barry before – never even fed off him, but the smell of blood that follows Barry around the studio every month as regularly as clockwork is almost getting too much for Ben.

“You promise?”

“Scout’s honour,” Ben promises. “And I’ll stop when you say.”

“I mean, if this feels good, then we may as well take a week off together every month. You don’t need to sleep, right?”

The thought of spending a week in bed feeding from Barry draws a little noise out of Ben, but he does have to remind himself he won’t be drinking from the carotid or femoral like he likes.

Barry keeps his shirt on when he sits, legs spread, with his back half-up against the headboard – he’s always more self-conscious on his period, Ben knows, because his chest hurts too much to bind – and is reluctant to take off his underwear.

“This feels weird,” he mumbles, fidgeting with the elastic. “Like, I’m still scared I’ll get blood all over my sheets.”

“I’m a fairly clean eater, don’t worry,” Ben reassures, and Barry takes a deep breath and slides down his underwear.

Ben is quick to move in, and he spreads Barry’s folds with his fingers. Barry’s breath hitches and he makes a choked-off sound as Ben licks up to get a first taste.

Ben mulls his tongueful of blood over a bit, savouring the taste.

“Well?” Barry asks nervously.

Ben licks his lips. “Saltier than normal. Like...if you could pickle blood.”

Barry screws up his face. “God, Ben, don’t describe it like that!”

Ben rolls his eyes and licks into Barry again, sucking at the little bit of blood that’s dribbled onto his fingers. “I never said it was bad.”

Barry doesn’t reply, but Ben practically feels his sharp inhale as he cleans off his fingers, trying to catch every drop, and shifts himself so he’s on his stomach and can hold Barry’s thighs up over his shoulders.

Ben tries sliding his tongue into Barry’s hole, and Barry whimpers, squeezing his thighs around Ben’s head as Ben probes deeper. He’s more curious than anything – he supposes he should be grossed out by this, but he’s a vampire, for fuck’s sake. It’s a weird way for him to be drinking blood – normally, he drinks like he’d drink water, constantly siphoning blood out through his bites, but this leaves him chasing the taste of blood as he laves his tongue over Barry. It’s thicker, stickier, a stranger consistency in his mouth.

A quiet sob comes from above him, and Ben looks up in alarm.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, your mouth feels so good, it just–”

“Am I hurting you?” Ben asks, sliding one hand up to rest on Barry’s hip.

Barry shakes his head, and guides Ben’s hand up to his abdomen. “Cold feels nice, though.”

Ben keeps his fingers interlaced with Barry’s as he keeps going, lets Barry squeeze his hand as he winces, and Ben keeps lapping at his cunt, casting glances up to Barry every so often.

As Ben licks carefully over his clit, Barry moans, and Ben feels his thighs shake over his shoulders and fingernails dig into his hand, and suddenly everything tastes way saltier than before.

“Hold on, hold on, you can stop now, Ben,” Barry manages weakly, and Ben pulls off him, licking blood from his lips.

“Well?”

Barry frowns. “I’m not sure I like coming with cramps. How are you feeling?”

Ben wrinkles his forehead as he sits up. “Felt like it wasn’t worth it for the amount of blood I got.”

Barry nods, and grabs his underwear. “So we’re not doing this again?”

“Nah,” Ben answers.

**Author's Note:**

> updates when i don't write anything long enough to be on its own <3


End file.
